Christmas in a bag
by ece23
Summary: Starsky is working Christmas Eve all alone, until someone brings Christmas to him. A little thing I've had on my computer for a few years and finally decided to post!


Starsky gazed around the room which was his temporary home. He could hear water dripping, and he was sure it wasn't only from the kitchen taps. From the single overhead light fitting a bare light bulb gave the room a cold appearance, something like a cell.

He was sitting in the room's only armchair, with a notebook balanced on his lap as he chewed absent-mindedly on a pencil and pondered a fact scribbled in the book.

A sneeze interrupted his concentration, and he reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, holding the pencil between his teeth. He looked around the miserable room with a sigh. Not the place he would have chosen to spend Christmas Eve, but this assignment had gone on longer than anyone expected.

They'd recently managed to confirm that the drugs deal they'd been waiting for would go down on Christmas day, and that would be their chance to arrest the deadly gang who were the reason for Starsky being here. He was using this time alone to go over the notes he'd taken throughout the assignment, and trying to fix everything in his mind, leaving nothing to chance. He'd managed to surreptitiously meet up with some of his colleagues that morning, and they had finalised the details of everyone's positions and roles the next day. He couldn't wait until this was all over.

The room's only saving feature was the radio he'd brought with him, which perched on the floor quietly playing Christmas songs. It was ready to be turned off at a moment's notice; it wouldn't do to have the gang hear their tough new friend singing along to "Jingle Bells".

It was bad enough that he had to be in this place at Christmas, but he had to be on his own, too. Aside from it being lonely and unpleasant, it was really boring. He smiled, remembering Hutch's reaction when Dobey announced that they would have to choose which of them went undercover for this one. His grin grew as he remembered cheating at the coin toss. With any luck, he'd get a glimpse of his friend tomorrow.

In spite of the layers he was wearing, he shivered, and looked around again thoughtfully. This place was convenient for its proximity to the group they were trying to catch, and it fitted in with his cover story, but it wasn't as pleasant as it could be. Freezing cold and damp were its main features, and he found himself missing his own cosy place. What could make the place better, he wondered? Apart from the obvious, which would be knocking down the building and starting again. A Christmas tree in that corner... a tasteful floor lamp over there… an open fire... a few paintings maybe…

There was a sudden sound outside, and Starsky was instantly alert. A car door closing. It was followed by the building's main door banging shut, and then footsteps on the stairs. The footsteps stopped outside his door, and he heard keys jangling. The door next to his own opened and closed, and the feet moved further in. A woman was speaking now, her voice whiny and high pitched, followed by a man's voice, rougher.

He settled back into the armchair again and went back to the notebook, then nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard more scuffling outside his own door.

There were three taps in quick succession.

Getting up quietly, he reached toward his gun. He really hoped it wasn't one of the gang, he wasn't in the mood now for an evening of drinking and discussing all the people they needed to 'waste'. He was pretty grateful for the character that had been created for him: that he was a man who preferred his own company to the extent that anyone who tried to impose themselves on his privacy would be likely to leave without any toes.

Starsky slid back the bolts and edged the door open carefully. A blond head peered cautiously in.

The relief was overwhelming. "Hutch!" he whispered, feeling a giant grin start to spread across his face. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I... I know I'm not supposed to but I didn't want you to be on your own on Christmas Eve," a slightly embarrassed voice admitted in a rush. The door opened wider to reveal all of Hutch, armed with several paper bags.

Starsky's relief was replaced by a flash of panic. "Wait a minute – of course I'm happy to see you pal, but my cover is that I'm an antisocial, bad-tempered, gun-happy loner. If someone from the gang comes up here, we'll have to hide you fast! Did anyone see you come in?"

Hutch shrugged, barging past Starsky into the room. "I'll just tell 'em I'm your therapist."

Starsky peered out of the door cautiously, checking for signs of anyone following his friend. "Where's your car?"

"Don't worry, I parked it a couple of blocks away. And no, nobody saw me come in as far as I know."

Starsky smirked and shut the door, locking the bolts one by one. "The neighbourhood will love the car. Might be missing a few wheels when you go back for it, but it'll still be the heap of junk you know and love."

Unconcerned, the blond man headed for the armchair, then thought better of sitting on the suspiciously grubby seat and perched on the arm instead. He gazed around the room. "Nice place you got here."

Starsky snorted and sat down on the floor next to the chair, abandoning his worry for now. "It's great for the wildlife." He nodded in the direction of a large black spider perched on one of the walls and shivered slightly. He tried unsuccessfully to stifle another sneeze.

Hutch frowned at him, noticing immediately in spite of Starsky's attempts to hide his discomfort. "You caught a cold? They could have found you a better place to stay than this, they know you've gotta be careful after... _that_." He got up and stalked over to the window, peering out.

Starsky sighed and hauled himself to his feet to join Hutch. The street below was dark and damp, and a few pieces of rubbish blew about in the breeze. A pigeon hurried past the window, perhaps not wanting to be out in the open any longer than it had to be. "Hey, it's all right, Hutch. This place fit with the cover story." When Hutch looked unconvinced, he went on. "It's really not that bad. At least the neighbours are quiet. And it's only for one more day."

There was a moment of silence, and then Starsky's curiosity got the better of him and he leaned towards the bags Hutch had brought. "What have you got there?"

Hutch smiled warmly, appearing to forget his concerns for the moment. "Christmas."

Starsky grinned. "You got Christmas in a bag?"

Hutch reached into one of the bags, and with a flourish he drew out a miniature Christmas tree, complete with tiny baubles and tinsel. Another dip into the bag brought out a string of coloured lights, and then Starsky, unable to resist, dug into the second bag to find Christmas food and their Monopoly game.

The last bag, Hutch picked up and held protectively. This wasn't a plain brown grocery bag, this one was festively decorated, and Starsky stared at it with interest. "What's in that one? It's my present, isn't it? I knew it!" He clapped his hands together excitedly.

Relenting, Hutch handed over the bag. It actually held two parcels, and Starsky pulled one out, wrapped in shiny green paper with a large red bow. It was lighter than it looked, and soft. He looked up at Hutch, who was watching.

"Go on," Hutch allowed, giving permission for the parcel to be opened.

Starsky bounced excitedly and started to pick at the sticky tape.

Hutch sighed impatiently. "Rip it, Starsk!"

Starsky gave him an even larger grin and tore into the paper. "I knew you'd get me something. You can't resist the Christmas spirit really." He removed the last shreds of paper to reveal a sweater, sky blue with white snowflakes.

Hutch was watching his face intently, waiting for the reaction, and Starsky gave it to him, grinning hugely. "Thanks, Hutch, I love it. Gonna wear it every day!" He backed up his statement by pulling the Christmas sweater on over the layers he already wore.

Hutch laughed softly. "You'd look a little odd wearing it in the height of summer, partner. Then again, maybe no one would notice, with you looking odd already and all…"

Starsky threw the balled up wrapping paper at Hutch. "Thanks. I'll tell everyone I have to wear it so I don't hurt your feelings. Hey, what's in the other present, huh?"

"You'll find out when you open it," Hutch pointed out. "Why don't you wait until tomorrow though? Something to look forward to."

Starsky picked up the smaller, rectangular gift and shook it next to his ear. It didn't make any sound that would reveal what it was, and he put it back into the bag before it occurred to him to attempt to be a host. "Hey, Hutch, you want a drink or anything?"

Hutch shook his head. "Not from that kitchen, if it looks anything like this room. I brought this." He reached into the food bag and brought out a bottle of wine and two paper cups.

Starsky gave him another huge grin. "Thanks, Hutch." He hoped Hutch would see that he was thanking him for more than bringing drinks.

Hutch shrugged, blushing slightly. "Yeah, well, like I said. You shouldn't be all on your own at Christmas." He looked around again, and his gaze landed on the notebook. "What've you got there?"

Starsky reached for the book. "Just notes. Stuff I've seen, people I've talked to…"

Hutch took it from him and flipped through the notes. "All ready for tomorrow?"

Starsky nodded. "I think so."

"Let's hope it all goes down like it's supposed to. Got a dinner at my place with your name on it." He glanced at Starsky. "I'll be there tomorrow, you know, watching and ready to help make the arrests. I had to promise Dobey a batch of Christmas cookies to let me go..."

Starsky laughed. "Who's gonna bake them?"

"Well, I told him you'd be so glad to see me there, you'd make them with your own fair hands."

"What'd he say to that?"

Hutch smirked. "Can't repeat it in polite company," he said, nodding at the spider. Momentarily turning more serious, he reached out and squeezed Starsky's shoulder. "You sure you're doing okay, buddy?"

Starsky gave him a half smile. It sucked to have a cold and to have missed most of the festive season, and as the assignment had dragged on he'd seen and heard and _done_ some things he'd rather not have, but he still got part of Christmas day to spend with his friend and that was something to look forward to. Hutch _knew_ all that, so he simply said "Yeah, just fine. I'll be glad when this is over. I hope we don't get any nasty surprises tomorrow."

Hutch sighed. "Me too. I need my partner back. Who else could back me up to polish off a twenty pound turkey?" His joking tone thinly disguised the quiet concern that Starsky heard plainly in his voice.

"You do not have a twenty pound turkey... do you?" Starsky asked, his stomach growling at the thought of it. "Hey, I haven't even had a chance to wrap your present yet. I've had it since August you know. It's still in my closet. You can let yourself in and fetch it if you want." Starsky sighed loudly. "I can't believe we're here on Christmas Eve".

Hutch just nodded. The mood in the room turned quiet and thoughtful. In unison, they sat down on the floor, leaning their backs against the tired armchair.

"You know… when I was a kid…" Starsky began, then paused. "Ah, you don't wanna hear me…"

"Go on," Hutch encouraged. "I do."

Starsky shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "Christmas-time was the best time of the year to look forward to, and even if I had to get through something I hated first, everything would be fine once we got to the holidays."

"Like doing your homework?" Hutch teased, even as he reached for Starsky's shoulder for a reassuring squeeze.

Starsky laughed and continued. "Yeah, and now I know better, of course, but I still like it. I get why you don't, really. It's just, I _like_ it that people say 'Merry Christmas' to strangers for that one time. I like all the lights and songs and sentimentalism. I wish it was like that all the time. I want to enjoy it while it lasts, you know."

Hutch waited a moment, deep in thought. "There's nothing wrong with that, buddy. And if your theory is anything to go by, it's going to be okay tomorrow. Get through the hard stuff and it'll be okay at Christmas. I'll make sure of it."

When Hutch let himself out at dawn with a firm promise to see him later, Starsky hugged the sweater he was still wearing, thinking that the room didn't seem quite so cold anymore. He couldn't wait to see Dobey's face when he took him some store-bought low-fat cookies, but mostly he couldn't wait until he got through the end of this assignment and went home to his best friend and the twenty-pound turkey. His theory may be a weird one, but it seemed like Hutch had just gone a long way toward proving it true, and maybe that didn't have so much to do with Christmas itself but with the people it was spent with.

 **Thanks for reading, Merry Christmas!**


End file.
